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She arches, bucking her hips in an attempt to throw me, but I have too much skin in this game.
I hang on, determined to take the fae bitch out or die trying.
She disappears from beneath me, and I move too slow.
Reappearing right in front of me, she has her blade in hand and aimed directly at my throat. “Time to die, little witch. Playtime is ov—”
Her words are cut off when a blade plunges from her gut. She stares down at the red-tipped silver in complete shock. “What did you do?” she chokes out.
I shake my head, and she turns, revealing Fearghas standing right behind her, tears brimming in his green eyes.
“You stabbed me,” she chokes out.
“You gave me no choice, Sheelin.”
She stumbles backward. “You—” Trailing off, she turns to me, then back to Fearghas. “I—” She disappears.
Fearghas swallows hard and reaches down to grip my good hand and pull me to my feet. “Enough relaxing. Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a war?” I know he’s trying to play it off, though the anguish is written clear as day on his face—but I let him have it, and together, we both plunge back into the fray.
I cradle my injured arm, using it only to bring magic into the fight. I fling energy ball after energy ball at our attackers while trying like hell not to focus too intently on the location of a certain vampire.
Fighting back-to-back with the fae, we manage to take out another half-dozen shifters. Him—hand-to-hand—me taking them out with the magic steadily exhausting me. I know keeping this up for much longer is dangerous, but I’d rather die than let these assholes win.
In the distance, a wolf howls. Then, more join in. I risk a glance to my right just in time to see dozens upon dozens of wolves racing through the trees toward us. They’re led by a solid black one, a white wolf trailing right behind.Willa and Z.More hope.
“Fuck yes.” Fearghas grunts. “Bloody hell.”
I spin as Fearghas stumbles backward. With adrenaline coursing through my veins, my vision narrows on the vampire who just sunk her teeth into the fae. She snarls at me, and I blast her with enough magic to send her flying backward into the battle. Blood spurts from his throat, the massive wound larger than it should have been. Fearghas stumbles, and I manage to link my uninjured arm beneath his shoulder before he sinks all the way down to the ground.
“Dammit, Fearghas. You lost a lot of blood.”
“Fucking bloodsucker.”
“We need to get you to Rachel. Ridley!” I call out, hoping the fae is close enough to grab him. A massive tiger stalks toward me, so I ready myself for a fight. It raises its lips in a snarl moments before a body slams into it.
A black wolf sinks its teeth into the tiger’s throat and rips, sending blood and chunks of fur and skin flying.
Then, she turns to me and drops her head in a nod.
“Thanks, Willa,” I whisper, just before she rushes back into the fight.
With my good arm keeping Fearghas on his feet, my movements are slowed, and I’m forced to use my injured arm, feeling the searing pain in every single movement. Even still, leaving the fae to go find help is a no-go. I scan the crowd for Ridley—or any other fae who could get him out quickly—but see none.
“Leave me here.”
“Not a chance.”
“You’re injured.”
“So are you.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You will,” I confirm. “As soon as we get you to Rachel.”
A body slams to the ground at our feet, and I cover my mouth with my hands when I recognize Tarnley’s friend, Kline, eyes wide, throat bloody.
“Fuck.” Fearghas sways, and it takes all my strength to keep him on his feet.
